WherLeader
by Inuhsien
Summary: The Fourth Pass has become the Fourth Interval, and Pern breaths a sigh of relief, expanding back across Threadbare ground. But what happens when Thread suddenly starts falling again, out of pattern and at night? Sequel to WeyrWatch. Sorta canon, girls on blues, lots of wher lore, significant worldbuilding. (Temporary hiatus. No fears, will finish.)
1. Chapter 1

_Dragons colored green,_ _are amazing to be seen_  
 _speed and bursts of fire_ , _their weapons of choice_  
 _although quick to tire,_ _they fight with mad desire_  
 _and roar after Thread, with one voice  
-The Colors Song_

Char put down her tome and used a folded piece of parchment to fan herself. Despite resting in the shade of an open air gazebo the afternoon heat remained oppressive at the BeastHall. No creature stirred, not even the happily drowsing firelizards, and in the back of her mind, Vaeth stirred sleepily, only to drop into a deeper sleep.

For six wonderful months the skies had been blissfully clear of Thread, and Char had wasted no time in turning her hand to her lifelong love of the BeastCraft.

The faintest hint of a breeze stirred as a hand parted the shimmering glass strands of the bead curtain leading to the indoor classroom of the Hall.

"Char?" An apprentice, only nine Turns of age peered out and scanned the outdoor classroom.

"Over here, Saldewi." She called to him, raising a hand to catch his attention.

"Sorry for bothering you." He said in a rush, curiously at odds with his slow, measured pace. Nothing moved fast in the windless noon.

"No worries. Whatcha need?"

"Master Bamil needs a favor. He wants to know if you can transport some medicines to the WherHold?" The tanned boy explained.

"Be my pleasure." The cold of _between_ would be a welcome respite. "Let me get Vaeth geared up." She set her text aside, standing. Saldewi nodded and disappeared back into the Hall.

Vaeth woke slowly as she approached, and yawned as she threw the riding straps over his neck. Images passed between them, wordlessly, the wheres and whens all dragonpairs checked with each other as part of the preflight ritual. Bamil joined her under Vaeth's outstretched wing, offering a sliver of shade in the near breathless heat.

"Did Saldewi tell you where I need you to flit?" The HerdHealer asked. Char nodded, pulling her flight jacket on and ignoring the smothering heat. Bamil passed up to her a tightly bound bundle. Char tucked the parcel inside her jacket and hoped her sweat wouldn't soak the molded leather casing before her delivery.

"I'll be back in time for evening lectures." She called as Bamil backed up and raised a fist, the ground crews sign for 'clear airspace'. Char saluted, a fist over her heart, and Vaeth lept skyward.

* * *

 _ **Welcome to the sequel to 'WeyrWatch'. If you notice any grammatical or spelling errors, please don't hesitate to inform me.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Dragons colored blue,_ _more than pay their due_  
 _lasting out the Flight_ , _over peopled lands_  
 _their greatest trick of all,_ _is not found during Fall_  
 _but in finding candidates,_ _to stand on Hatching Sands._  
 _-The Colors Song  
_

Where Red Butte was often the first landmark dragonpairs learned when ' _betweening',_ the WherHold had become the second. Rising out of the emerald waters like a great sea snake, the entirely man-made hold curled possessively around two thirds of the atoll it was built on. Raised above the ground by a full dragon length in height, the walls comprised of red Igen bricks, giving it the appearance of a red underbelly. The roof was covered in overlapping slate plates, bequeathing it's serpentine look, pitched and angled to cause any Thread to fall harmlessly into the fish teeming waters.

Despite coming out of _between_ directly over the landing area, Vaeth gracefully spiraled over the glittering lagoon, the agreed upon protocol between the dragonmen and wherfolk, to let them know when the dragons were there for a visit. Beneath, in the gentle waves high pitched shouts of welcome came from the hold children, which of whom began swimming towards the landing site.

Vaeth tighten his spiral, aiming to come in for a gentle landing, then, with no warning suddenly snapped his wings tightly to his side, touching down with a jarring thud. Thrown forward, Char glanced to her left, and saw a toddler a half wingspan away, and walking towards them, laughing and clapping his hands.

 _Sorry._ Vaeth murmured, glancing back at his rider.

 _It's alright._ Char slapped his neck reassuringly. **_I_** _didn't sense_ _him either._

A young man came running out to them, catching up the toddler and apologizing profusely to Vaeth.

 _Peace. No harm was done._ Vaeth informed him as Char dismounted the same way she would an overly tall runner. Bowing the young man backed away.

 _Would Fulsa be angry with me if I tell Graesth that he would be a good_ _candidate?_ Vaeth asked idly, as the two retreated.

 _Of course, but I won't tell her if you don't._ Char replied drolly, disrobing. The heat was less here, but the higher humidity made the riding gear equally uncomfortable.

"I'll take your jacket, sir!" One of the children cried, trotting ahead of the flock of children.

"Thank you. Can someone lead me to Lady Tegrram?"

"This way, mistress," one of the older girls recovered quickest, while the youngster who took her jacket did a double take.

"You ride a blue? And you're a girl?" One of the younger children asked.

"Yep." Char had long since gotten over being bothered by the question. "Telgarsk is blue, and his handler is a girl." She added as she followed the sun browned child.

"Fortsk is a brown, and Lady Hydafil is his handler." Another boy replied.

"And Garsk, he's a bronze, and, and his handler is Mistress Kelhi." The littlest girl, carrying her flight goggles, added, trotting along side of her. Char smiled, sensing easy acceptance in the children, and stepped into the entrance of the WherHold.

* * *

Jurille poured the spiced iced _klah_ for her guests, Brinda and Asvi. The Magnificent Eight had been reduced to five in the past three Turns, a loss the small community of queenriders felt keenly, and the two oldsters had jumped at the opportunity to discuss a heritage project.

"You know, I actually feel a bit sad for the queenriders to come after us." Asvi said, sipping her beverage.

"Oh?'' Jurille asked. Brinda smiled and said nothing, having heard all of this before.

"Interval queens are much rarer, most exist as the only queen of their Weyr for the majority of their lives. The group cohesion we have enjoyed appears to only be a Pass phenomenon. And as the dragons get larger, fewer queens will be needed to maintain population numbers." Avsi explained. Jurille sipped her _klah_ thoughtfully.

"Then... we need to weave the sense of sisterhood into this." She finally replied. Brinda nodded. "A contiguous sisterhood, from Sorka and Farranth to them."

"Something more than a dusty ballad." Avsi added. "Just in my lifetime I've seen Teaching Ballads fall in and out of favor. This needs to be more, something interactive."

"Incorporate it into the Queen's Meet." The other two queenriders nodded.

"But make it so it can be accomplished by only six." Brinda added.

"What if we made something that is both spoken word and music?" Jurille mused.

"Something dramatic, to stir the heart." Avsi murmured as her blue firelizard, more grey then blue with age, slipped into her lap. Avsi stroked him, eyes distant.

"Could we include include candles or glows somehow?" She asked absently. "High Reaches Hold has a lovely tradition where everyone attending a wedding is given an unlit candle. As the vows are exchanged, the betrothed blend their candle flames, then move about the gathered witnesses to light everyone's candles." She smiled softly. "It's a lovely ceremony."

"I like that, we can make that work." Jurille murmured and refilled their cups.

* * *

Water lapped against the dark basalt of the sheer sides of the half submerged caldera. A stiff breeze rustled the dense foliage of the redfruit trees surrounding the sleeping shelter. Yawning Shay rolled over and fell out of his hammock, waking his bronze firelizard in the process. Lantern yellow eyes peer down at the teen, and he offered a soft croon of concern.

"I'm alright, Skip." Shay murmured ruefully, reaching up to rub the firelizard's headknobs. This was the fourth time in as many days that he had fallen out of his sleeping hammock. He had taken to piling soft sand under his hammock for this very situation.

Sighing he sat up after a long moment, unwilling and unable to return to sleep. The hot season made sleep difficult, and he decided to take a the late night swim instead.

Skip chirped and flew above him as he picked his way down the deliberately pebbled path from the sleeping shelter to the lagoon. The half of the island submerged was completed by a mirror perfect reef. Across the water he could see the bobbing lights of island's fishers, the island's watchwher helping chase the night's catch into waiting nets. In a Turn, when he was more comfortable handling the small catamaran, he would be given the opportunity to join the fishers, if he didn't find a different trade he preferred.

Skip arrowed into the water, splashing ahead of the youngster projecting what he saw underwater. Laughing Shay plunged in after, the water quickly deepening as he moved away from the shore into cooler water, away from the glowing corals Skip eeled amongst.

Finally comfortable he rolled over on his back and stared up at the stars. The past eight months had been something from a dream, he reflected. He had 'escaped' from the Smithhall, the morning of Fall, and traveled overland in deepening winter until, half starved, he banged on the iron trap door above Retribution. No less partronage than Lady Galnees herself, met with him then, astride the massive Retributionsk, who transported them into the warm bowls of the underground fortress, where he demanded his due as Redell's holder.

For a fortnight he recovered from his ordeal, then Redell summoned him for a personal rendition of his account, in the Hatchery. As Redell sat resting on the monsterous bronze wher's foreleg, Shay told of his blotched assassination and Branth's successful murder of Lord Kestle. He spoke of his interrogation, by Telgar's WeyrLady, and all that he had revealed. He informed the WherLord of the Telgarans' decision to send him to hard labor in the SmithHall and how for almost two Turns he served as a drudge for the apprentices and mastermasons, and finally of his own escape and travels. All of these he repeated truthfully and without fear, for the great wher was also listening, and his soft glowing eyes remaining green throughout. In the silence that followed Redell caressed one of his queen firelizards, sitting on his shoulder, and considered his words.

"And what do you want from me, now that you have your freedom?" Redell's voice was patient, despite the late hour.

"I want a future." Shay replied steadily. "My pa and ma were holdless. Tunnel snake got my ma, and a group of drunk miners beat my pa to death, while he was hunting wherries. The Smiths made it clear I would never be able to join a Hall." He lifted his chin defiantly. "I ain't gonna die like my folks. I ain't afraid of hard work neither. You've seen that I'm loyal. If you give me a place, I'll learn learn any Craft you want me to. All I want is a fair chance." Redell nodded slowly.

"I'd say you've earned one. Go, spend the rest of the day as you see fit. Then report to Galnees in the morning."

Shay's reminiscent were interrupted by Skip tugging insistently at his shoulder length hair.

"Ow- Skip, what-?" Wincing he tried to untangle the firelizard's talons, then paused realizing the sky had gone dark, as if obscured by a cloud. In the distance Merrisk the watchwher bellowed and vanished amid shouts of surprise by the fishers. The water seemed to boil with fish as Shay swam, terrified of what Skip was projecting. It never occurred to him to question how his firelizard, hatched in the past four months, knew what Thread was - now all that mattered was getting to the slate lined boat shed before Thread did.

* * *

 _ **The WherHold was inspired by Fort Jefferson, in the Dry Tortugas, and ancient Melanesian building practices.**_

 _ **If you see any grammatical or spelling errors, please let me know. Also, I thrive on feedback.  
**_


	3. Chapter 3

_Where's the rock for firestoning?  
Where's the coordinates we're going?  
Check your harness, check your helmet  
Be sure the fit just right  
Make sure to get good rest, for tomorrow we test  
Our flame against Thread in the dawn's early light.  
_-Chorus, The Colors Song _  
_

Char stopped and gasped, staring up at the high vaulted ceiling, almost two dragonlengths tall. Rather than the dark, cramped space like most holds the WherHold was airy and full of soft molted light shining in through thick panes of glass, nestled amongst the slate at even intervals. In place of the expected brick maze, personal rooms (weyrs, she caught herself calling them) built into the thick outer walls with a sandy wallow in front. Firelizards of all colors darted in and out between the overhanging roof and brick wall - Char gauged the distance and decided that all but the very largest of dragons could actually fly into the massive artificial cavern.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Queried a faintly smug voice, although the confidence and pride radiating from the speaker was anything but self serving. Char turned and saluted the speaker. "I'm Char of Vaeth. Welmet." She introduced herself, feeling rather superlative, as she was still the only female blue rider in all of Pern, although, perhaps with Sageth's first clutch warming on Hatching Sands and with as many girls as boys to stand the first Hatching of the Interval, maybe she'd see more female blue riders in her lifetime. The speaker was a woman, neither tall nor short nor fat nor slender, and could have passed for any other unremarkable woman, except for those merrily dancing eyes.

"You've gone and created a covered Weyr." Char replied, grinning as she pointed up at the ceiling. "WherLady Tegrram."

"Bluerider." Tegrram replied with a mirror image salute, placing her left fist to her chest, opposite her heart. Somewhere, perhaps from the Telgar Hold wherhandlers, Char recalled hearing that the reversed gesture was gaining popularity among the wherhandlers in place of the more common bowing among the holders. "Of Telgar? What might I do for the Weyr?"

"Nothing, I'm actually providing the service this time." Char held out the leather wrapped bundle. "Master Banil sends these with his regards."

Tegrram blinked, then laughed, taking the medicine packet. "My, but you are prompt. I expected it would be nightfall before a sweeprider would see the signal pennant." She explained.

"Ah, well that's the benefit of having an apprentice with her own set of wings." Char grinned, and decided she liked the wherqueen handler.

"So I've heard." Tegrram matched her smile for smile. "I have an egg bound chicken, would you like to see how one helps a hen pass her egg?"

"Yes please!" Char all but leaped at the opportunity. The reading material had touched briefly on poultry, but currently all their lectures were on the big three; bovines, ovines and equines.

"This way then~" Tegrram waved her to follow.

* * *

Shay huddled under the reinforced apex of the boat shelter's roof, wincing with each wet sounding hit as Thread landed on the thick slate roof, and slide off to the ground. Skip had vanished the moment Shay scrambled into the loft, the loft lined with thinly beaten copper, a failsafe, to protect anyone in the boat shelter if Thread somehow managed to get in one of the boats. Nor was he alone. Merral, a girl a couple Turns older than him seized him by the shoulders and helped him in when he first burst into the shelter. Her three firelizards, two greens and a brown, were also missing. Merral hugged her knees, looking miserable.

"Wh-where did the lizards go?" Shay finally asked, his fear easing enough for him to find his tongue.

"Donno. They're never left me before." She whispered, as another tangle of Thread hit the roof. Beyond that, they could hear, distantly, as people called to one another.

"Sounds like most people got to safety." Shay suggested hopefully.

"Yeah, but what about the fishers?" Merral asked, and Shay remembered that her father was the wherhandler. He opened his mouth, then whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a crackling burst of flame.

''Dr-dragons? Here?" He gaped.

"No! The firelizards!" She pointed and just beyond the eaves they could see a little blue sear a glowing filament dangling from the roof. The two stared in awe for a long moment, then, incredibly Merral began singing.

" _Green, blue, brown, bronze and gold  
Rise up to protect the Hold  
Rainbow colors flame on high  
'Til they clear Thread from the sky  
Fire bright, dark _between _  
Such a sight to be seen  
Rally round, firestone to flame  
Here we will stake our claim"  
_

Tears pricking his eyes, Shay added his voice with Merral's and those of the other islanders as they joined in, singing their praise and gratitude to the fearless firelizards.

* * *

Galnees gently shook Redell awake. The WherLord had fallen asleep at his desk, his queens draped across his shoulders, creeling in annoyance as they were dislodged from their warm perches.

"My lord, please wake." Her tone was worried, but low, so as not to alert the Record's clerk in the next room over.

"What is it Galnees?" Seven Turns in and he still never failed to call her by her full name. He rubbed his eyes.

"The wherhandler from Ring Island just arrived. You need to hear his tale." She murmured softly. His startling green eyes met her golden brown ones, and he nodded, standing to follow her into the Greeting cavern, one of the few areas of the old mine shaft had been widened to accommodate the totality of Retribution, be it for a feast or speech.

Shivering under a thick blanket was Merritte, a small man, water dripping from his still wet hair. His blue Merrisk's eyes spun rapid red and he gouged the floor as his tail lashed.

"Lord Redell!" Merritte bowed nervously, his bare feet looking almost frost bit. "Lord Redell, Thread falls over Ring Island."

"What?" Redell looked from the shivering man to his wher, who dutifully shared the image of night falling Thread. Redell reached out and gripped Merritte's shoulder. "And what of the others?" He demanded harshly.

"Merri plucked the fishers from the surf and jumped them to his weyr, the rest of the people were safe under their sleep shelters." Merritte explained between chattering teeth.

No wonder he was so cold, Redell thought, releasing his painful grip on the wherhandler, he likely made multiple jumps _between,_ all soaking wet. He glanced over at Glanees and caught her eye.

"See that our man gets warm. I'm taking Redellsk out."

* * *

 ** _If you see any misspelling, misuse of grammar, or something that you're simply curious about, please don't hesitate to contact me.  
_**


	4. Chapter 4

_Polaris, to the North  
Dawnsisters to the East  
Watch for the Hammock the further South you go  
Trundlebug, and Jumping Canine in Winter months  
Summer months ShipFish, Redfruit, and Hoe  
-Stars to Know_, Teaching Song

Captain Natlysu roused from her slumber, woken by strange dreams of Thread falling in night dark skies. She shifted in her hammock, and stroked her sleeping fire lizards. Her fair was an ironic accident, she had been transporting a clutch to be traded when a storm blew her off course, and the eggs hatched. Between herself and the crew they didn't lose a single lizard, but there was more than a little joking that she managed to impress eight greens, and the clutch's gold. Out of respect for the rest of her fair she named the queen 'Starboard'.

Starboard twitched, then woke and chirped questioningly.

"Hungry?" Natlysu asked, rolling out of her hammock. The rest of the fair woke at the thought of food and swooped after her, as she climbed barefoot onto the top deck. _Clear Dawn_ , her ship, lay at anchorage several miles offshore of Desert Island, a day's travel west of her final destination, the Master Sea Hold of Tillek.

She paused, noticing her fair massing on the rails, chirping and rustling their wings. Walking over to them, she peered westward into the predawn gloom, wondering what they were looking at. A sharp image of roiling waters inserted itself into her mind - her fair often worked in tandem to show her something beyond human sight. While mostly useless for chartwork, she found her 'lizard-sight' had practical applications on deck.

"Surf, my pen. Wavey, my paper." The two named greens popped out, returning with the requested items. The fair turned their luminescent eyes towards the slip of paper, illuminating it as Natlysu recorded the unusual shoaling behavior. She tied it to Starboard's foreleg.

"Take this to the Fleetmaster, the Fleetmaster." She visualized the weathered face of the Fleetmaster and his three legged bronze firelizard. Starboard gave her a querying thought.

"Sooner you deliver the note the sooner I'll feed you." She chided the little queen. Starboard chirped irritably, but vanished _between._

* * *

"How does swimming help?"Char asked, staring down at the black feathered hen resting in a tub of water. The hen peered back up at her. Tegrram smiled.

"She's soaking, not swimming. I'm hoping to rehydrate the oviduct enough to pass the egg without the medicine," the wherqueen handler explained, kneeling down and lifting the hen out of the water. "She's been soaking for most of the morning, let's see if she can lay now." She placed the hen down, and immediately the hen squatted. They watched in silence as the hen strained then stood, no egg in sight. Tegrram sighed and placed the fowl back into the water tub. The hen settled down and floated placidly.

"If she hasn't passed the egg by dinner, I'll give her the medicine then." Tegrram explained, washing her hands in a bowl of water smelling faintly of redwort. There was a loud cluck and the hen flapped her wings, trying to climb out of the tub. An unusually large egg was left behind, floating in the water.

"Looks like you won't have to worry about it now." Char remarked, picking up the just slightly smaller than fist sized egg.

"Thankfully. Would you like to stay for dinner? I'm thinking of making egg drop soup."

* * *

Glanees followed Redell back to his quarters, where he was rapidly changing.

"You will not fight Thread!" She snapped, shutting the door tightly behind her. Redell glanced up, startled by her sharp tone.

"I can't just abandon-" he started to object.

"Which is precisely what you would be doing if you caught Thread! You may be WherLord, but you are no dragonrider! They train for two Turns before they fly Fall - can you even tell me how much firestone Redellsk needs to support repeated bursts of flame?" She demanded. He opened his mouth to reply then clicked it shut, his face darkening with anger. Wordlessly he pushed past her, and she followed, although she said nothing to him in front of the other holders.

Reaching the Wherery Redell stopped in his tracks, baffled as to why his bronze was hunched in the far corner, eyes whirling red with white streaks.

"Wha-?"

"Even a bronze as large as yours won't disobey his queen." Glanees stated flatly, deriving no joy in this victory. Redell whirled and grabbed her by the throat. Galnees stared steadily into his eyes, remaining calm, as a warning hiss issued a mere stride away from her wherqueen.

Gritting his teeth, Redell released her, and she continued to stand her ground.

"Hear me out, my lord. Ring Island has the sandworms, that's why we settled it first. So long as the holders got to shelter - and we built so very many shelters - they will be safe. Furthermore, Merrisk already pulled anyone too far from shelter into his wherery. Otherwise we wouldn't be treating his handler for frostbite. Lastly, anyone caught by Thread is already dead. You flying off to fight Thread saves no one, and the risk to you is far too great. We need you, but more importantly, we need you alive." She argued impassionedly.

He scowled at her, but didn't dispute, for he couldn't find fault with her logic.

"Arrange a medical team. We fly once the skies are clear." He replied, walking over to Redellsk, who uncurled and allowed him to mount.

"Where are you going?" Glanees asked, eyes still flinty.

"To check the other islands."

* * *

 ** _Language notes: wherery = a word coined by Redell to describe the wher enclosures. He wanted a word as unique as weyr but disassociated from the dragonriders._**

 ** _Note: Story update schedule is listed in the story description._**

 ** _Shorter chapter, my apologies, I just changed jobs and am back to 60 hours a week until the end of the year._**

 ** _If you notice any spelling or grammatical errors please let me know ASAP._**


	5. Chapter 5

_Away hey! Look out, away~_  
 _Set course for the Islands~_  
 _And we're on our way!_  
 _Away hey! Look out away~_  
 _as the night turns into_ day~  
 **- _Journey's Start,_** _a song sung in the Southern Archipelago_

Kestket roused as his firelizards tugged at his hair.

"I'm up, I'm up." He grumbled, sitting up and yawning. He wasn't due another night visit for al least a fortnight, but now, a year after being Waterhole's sole inhabitant, he recognized that events were subject to change. He scooted out of bed, eschewing the hammock most denizens of the tropics used, in favor of a mattress stuffed with cotton and fragrant _taq_ leaves. His fair preferred it too, he rather imagined, making his way by memory down the tight spiral staircase to the mid level of the brick tower. When they had constructed the tower, they had left the arrangement of the rooms to him. After the first typhoon he had relocated his sleeping quarters to the smaller top room, as it turned out to be cooler, and less likely to flood. The middle floor, which he paused long enough to grab a glowbasket from, was mostly kitchen, and whatever small repair project he was working on.

The bottom level was where he kept his fishing tackle, extra ropes and water vessels. Holding the glowbasket high he exited the tower and over the river smoothed pebbles that lined the path to the landing area. The moss transferred from the messenger paths had died, and the white sand blown away, and as he stepped down barefoot on one less that fully rounded pebble, he regretted that, gingerly closing the distance to his destination.

Overhead his fair whistled excitedly at the newcomers, and he blinked at the images they shared with him, for of all the visitors to come wher-back, he was not expecting the WherLord.

Holding the glow basket aloft he stood at the near end of the landing area, and watching in nervous awe as the gigantic bronze landed, eyes green shot with yellow.

"Good morn and welmet, Lord Redell," Kestket called respectfully, holding the glow up should Redell choose to dismount.

"Keeper, have you heard from Ring Island?" Redell asked, staying seated as Redellsk sniffed the _taq_ crop, ringing the internal bank of the basalt caldera.

"No, I haven't. Is everything alright?" Kestket had few interactions with Ring Island, as that island was at the far end of the archipelago, although at least one ship that came through once a season called Ring Island home.

"Thread falls over Ring Island. I take it you have not had a similar occurrence?"

Kestket blanched.

"No, I - I thought the pass was over." He stammered.

"So had I, Keeper." Redell shifted in his seat. "Your tower will protect you from Fall. Send Glanees any record of time and duration of Thread." He instructed as Redellsk unfurled his wings.

''And the _taq_?" The crop he currently had growing was the only vegetation that had survived and thrived in the marginal strip of land between the salt sea and the freshwater lagoon inside the extinct volcano.

"Do you not have sandworms?" Redell asked.

"Yes, my lord."

"Then at worst you'll lose the tops, the rootballs are well protected. Write Glanees if the crop fails, it won't be counted against you." He glanced skyward. "I have other islands to visit. Stay safe, Keeper!" He called as Redellsk launched them skyward with a powerful leap.

* * *

Keslo whistled and Chaeth flit across the small herd, spooking one geldling back into place as the herd moved at a leisurely pace down the dusty road to high pasturage. Moving six head was a simple enough task for the drover, and he relished the opportunity to work alone for a change. Chaeth returned to his favorite perch, on Kelso's left shoulder, his bronze tail curling comfortably around the drover's neck. The bronze's egg had been a gift from Char, after an offhanded remark that he had seen a pair of greens trained up by another drover, and had been impressed by their usefulness. Char had warned him at the time that his likelihood of anything other than a green or blue was at best a one in four chance, so when the bronze had hatched, he was a doubly welcome addition to the drover's life.

Keslo looked westward with a weather eye on the building clouds. While he wasn't adverse to riding in the rain, he didn't see any point for him or the cattle to sleep in it when there was a perfectly good Threadshelter nearby. He slapped the rump of one baulking bovine as it hesitated at the road entrance, with a bellow the gelding leapt forward, and upon smelling water, joined it's herdmates over at the water tank. Keslo unsaddled Shaggy, and brushed the runner down, before heading for the kitchen area.

The cross breeze that stirred the ashes in the fire pit did have him missing the old exterior walls - they had been removed by the lord Holder once Thread ceased to be a threat as, much to the ever loving chagrin of the Lord of Crom, his crowded main Hold had emptied of almost every single inhabitant of the lower levels at the start of the Interval. Many of the 'missing' holders set up cot holds and halls in the Threadshelters that lined the roads leading to the main Hold. Other Lords, keen to maintain the shelters for the Trader caravans, had quickly repurposed the stones of the walls for pasturage walls, and to repair the roads in parts.

Keslo fed the fire, carefully shielding the nascent flame from the stiff breeze. Chaeth swopped in and out of the shelter, a youthful show of exuberance, at least until the first heavy raindrops sent him streaking back to Keslo's side, softly scolding the sky's apparent betrayal. The drover laughed and caressed his damp bronze until as the water for _klah_ boiled. Once his _klah_ was ready he pulled out his most recent letter from Char, resting comfortably against his saddle and bedroll while sipping the warm drink in the afternoon light. She didn't write as often as she had in her Weyrling days, first Threadfall, and now Herdman apprenticeship ate up much of her free time, so when she did put quill to paper, she tried her best to write a long letter, something he was very grateful of, although his replies often took a while as well, not being the strongest of readers or writers.

Chaeth chirped questioningly, and Keslo fished out a strip of jerky for him, which the little bronze worried at much like a canine with a bone. He read the letter over and over again in the fading light, sounding out a couple words, then reading the whole letter, start to finish, memorizing her words. She seemed to be happy in her new role, he thought, sipping that last of his beverage, and carefully putting the letter away. Smiling, he poked the coals, and set about making a dinner of salt pork soup. He was just about to pull the small travel pot off the fire when Chaeth suddenly looked up and chirped quizzically out into the dark. Something responded, then two blue firelizards swooped in chittering agitatedly.

"What's wrong?" Keslo stood as the stranger firelizards grabbed his clothes and tugged, projecting the image of three men and a broken cart.

"I'm coming." He whistled for Shaggy, who trotted over, and Keslo hopped up, bareback. "Okay, lead me." He told the blues.

* * *

 _ **Some old faces reappear, to set the stage for new problems. A**_ ** _s always, please let me know if you see any misspellings, grammatical errors or errors in general. Also please any thoughts or critiques on your part would be greatly appreciated, even unfavorable ones._**  
 ** _Note: Story update schedule is listed in the story description._**


End file.
